


i am trouble (and i am troubled too)

by thisissirius



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Jim Moriarty is Badass, M/M, Moriarty is crazycakes, Moriarty loves Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-28
Updated: 2011-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-28 09:18:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/306337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisissirius/pseuds/thisissirius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>if there is one thing that moriarty treasures most in the world, it is his originality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i am trouble (and i am troubled too)

**Author's Note:**

> for tourdefierce. i don't recommend trying to get inside moriarty's head. he's a weirdo.

If there is one thing that Moriarty treasures most in the world (and he treasures very little - things can become weaknesses if you love them and hold them dear and Moriarty is never weak) it is his originality.

It figures, then, that the one time he should pretend to be something he is not (and subsequently _forget_ that he is pretending) will become three, four, five times.

 

→

 

He is aware of Carl Powers from the moment he steps foot inside the school. There is little that Jim misses and fewer still are the things he chooses to ignore. Carl is obvious and loud and popular and Jim detests the popular ones the most; they are always so desperate to be noticed and revered. It’s the quiet ones, always the quiet ones, who erupt from their shells and wreak havoc and death amongst the ranks.

It’s the quiet ones that Jim chooses to cultivate.

They (the universal they, he supposes) say that a child who likes to cut the wings off of bugs and fry them with magnifying glasses will grow to be killers. Those with troubled pasts and the suchlike and on and on. Jim is none of those things. Jim is clever and cunning and dangerous, yes, but he doesn’t have to take things apart to see how they work; he just doesn’t care. They work or they don’t, in the end nothing else matters. If he’s bored, they will alleviate that. If he wants to manipulate someone, they are a platform from which to do so.

They are means to an end; nothing else (nothing _less_ ).

Even in high school he is aware that he is different. He sees things his classmates overlook or dismiss or care little about. He knows which teachers will bend to his will and which ones he will have to work hard to convince. He sees which students he can coerce into his misdemeanours and which ones he should avoid.

Carl falls somewhere in the middle.

At first it’s easy for Jim to slide his way into Carl’s life and make his presence a fixed point for the young swimmer. (It’s always about the pool with Carl, always about the water and swimming and being _famous_. Fame is fleeting, a waste. Jim can only hope that Carl will choose something more worthwhile.) It works and Jim relishes in his success but it doesn’t take long for Carl to abuse his position as friend and Jim is soon the butt of many jokes.

Pride is not one of Jim’s weaknesses. He will never hurt or maim or kill because somebody makes him feel small. He will do so, however, because he is being portrayed as something less than perfect.

Jim hates being _inferior_.

 

→

 

It starts small; Jim has always been the queer boy at school. The social outcast and the weirdo. He does not care because he is above such things. He can use it to his advantage, however, and does so. He pretends that the comments and the jokes do not hurt and he makes his way back to Carl’s side until they are inseparable.

Then he starts.

It is easy to pretend he is gay and even easier to convince Carl that this doesn’t have to change anything between them. It’s so easy it’s almost boring. They share many hours together and Jim observes Carl close enough that he knows the instant everything changes. Eventually Carl learns to accept the lingering touches and the kisses and the stolen moments in classrooms and closets alike. He waits for the hand on his knee and the way Jim will smile for him and only him.

Then something goes wrong.

Somewhere along the line Jim forgets that he’s supposed to be pretending. He longs for the touches almost as much as Carl does. He waits for the kisses and the moments together and, and, and. He realises, almost too late to do anything about it, that he has fallen for Carl.

He spends the night in his room destroying everything he owns. Love is weakness. Emotion is weakness. Carl is a danger to him now. Carl is something he detests as much as he loves and he has to go. Broken, destroyed or dead, Jim doesn’t care. He cannot continue to exist whilst Jim does.

 

→

 

In the end, it is surprisingly easy.

(Moriarty will remember everything later to the minute detail; the poison and the trainers and the pool.)

 

→

 

After Carl dies, it is easier to go back to being the outcast once more. He forces the issue until everyone forgets that Jim was involved at all. He is the voice in the back of the head, the name on every person’s lips but he is never directly involved. It is one of the great things about how his mind works.

He is the master manipulator; the puppeteer with the strings.

→

John is different.

He intrigues Jim - now Moriarty to more than just those who fear him - because he is the man that Sherlock Holmes chooses to keep company with; a man so _ordinary_ that Moriarty balks at the mere idea of his counterpart choosing to be with such a creature. Moriarty knows Sherlock in ways that Sherlock is only just beginning to understand but this is something he thinks will be a challenge to determine;

What does Sherlock Holmes see in Doctor John Watson?

Sitting in the back of the van, jaw tight and Semtex strapped to his chest, the good doctor holds Moriarty’s gaze. It’s amusing and brave. A pet, sure, one that panders to Sherlock’s every whim and no doubt praises its master at every turn but still a pet. A pet that has strayed into Moriarty’s territory.

“You’re Molly’s boyfriend,” is the first thing John says and Moriarty’s smile slips.

Not overly intelligent then. Not stimulating enough company for someone of Sherlock’s intellectual capacity. Something else.

“Well, no.” John is speaking again, almost to himself. “Not boyfriend, I suppose, when you’re gay.”

“Pretending, Doctor.” Moriarty surprises himself as much as John when he speaks. “There is a certain beauty in deceiving Sherlock Holmes into thinking you are something you’re not.”

“You wonder,” John snaps, “when you’re so intent on getting him to notice you. I wouldn’t be surprised if you did want to jump him.”

“So crass.” Moriarty shakes his head, disgusted. “I’m sure sexual advances and even the act itself are of no consequence to Sherlock Holmes.”

John remains tight-lipped and Moriarty grins. He is wrong, then. Odd. He’s been assuming-

Wrong to assume. Sherlock is always adding something new, something exciting! Oh, this is going to be more of a challenge than he expected.

“We shall see, I suppose. I’m sure he will suffer in watching you die, Doctor. It will be something to behold before I start on him.”

“You touch him-”

Ah. There it is. That underlying factor that Moriarty is looking for. John is undeniably loyal but there’s a flash of something deeper in his eyes. Moriarty wants to tear it apart with his bare hands and rip it from John’s body. He hates the word ‘love’ because it is something he will never experience for himself; he thinks little of people who indulge in its gifts. Gifts, or something less, something to be disregarded.

Love is for fools.

Perhaps Sherlock does not know this as well as Moriarty; yet one more thing he has on the great detective.

He leans across the space and grips John’s chin in his hand. It is strong, locked. This man is powerful in his own way. “Let me make something clear, John Watson. You will be as powerful as I want you to be. You are going to be the catalyst of Sherlock’s destruction. I will make you unbearable to touch. Every time he kisses you, I want him to think of me.”

It is a lot to assume that they will kiss at all but Moriarty is nothing if not thorough.

John’s eyes narrow into a frown but he has no time to react before Moriarty is kissing him, revelling in the taste of a man that Sherlock has trusted his life to, his world. Moriarty is almost disappointed that there is nothing special about the kiss, it is as he suspected; boring.

He ends it with a quick bite to the corner of John’s mouth. A reason for Sherlock to ask, later, what happened.

It takes a while for John to speak and while he waits, Moriarty watches John’s face, his mouth, his body. It is enticing in ways he hadn’t been expecting. Sherlock knows how to pick well.

“I thought you said you were going to kill me.”

Moriarty realises too late his mistake. _Again_. Indulgences! Mere indulgences. He glares and leaves the back of the van, angry at himself and unable to channel his rage. He could damage John, he supposes, but that will make Sherlock angry and destroy the variables that Moriarty is already factoring into his plan.

No, he will contain his rage. Sherlock is coming.

 

→

 

Pretending to be gay has its advantages and Moriarty breaks his own rule; he uses it more than once.

Three times, in fact, and three times he forgets that he is only pretending. Three times (five, if he’s counting properly, but he rarely focuses on his mistakes, his failures) that he lets his emotions cloud his judgement. He wishes he could say they all occurred years ago but he is still making the same mistakes and he is always going to be his own worst critic.

One day this mistake is going to cost him his life but he can’t seem to break the pattern; Carl Powers. John Watson. Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock. Holmes.

 

→

 

It is disconcerting to realise that he is spending all this time infatuated with Sherlock Holmes when he is expecting no such thing to occur. Sherlock is becoming so much more without Moriarty noticing. Pretence is only as good as the person wearing it and Moriarty is not used to being less then brilliant at _anything_.

He will work at it. He will come back stronger and less distracted by things that he shouldn’t be. He will afford Sherlock his undivided attention - attention not weighed down by expectation or want. It is the want that is a personal affront to everything Moriarty has trained himself to be.

 

→

 

Moriarty waits impatiently for the arrival of his counterpart, his partner. They have become something along the way and he will relish what is to come. He has John in his grasp, a pawn. _The_ pawn.

He is not lying when he tells Sherlock that he will burn the heart out of him. He knows the heart is standing behind Moriarty, strapped up with explosives. His _heart_ is alive and breathing and unflinchingly loyal.

It’s almost sickening to think they are so dependent.

 

→

 

Afterwards, he knows that Sherlock will try and find someone that Moriarty loves dearly and burn their heart out; destroy them like Moriarty will keep trying to destroy John. Sherlock should know better than that. He may have succumbed to the human weakness of companionship but Moriarty will never be so stupid. He needs little now that he has Sherlock’s attention and their relationship may not be healthy but Moriarty doesn’t care.

It is intoxicating to be the focus of that great mind - for it is great - and garner such wonderful reactions from the consulting detective.

Consulting detective versus consulting criminal; it has all the hallmarks of a great story, perhaps in the future. For now, Moriarty delights in torturing Sherlock to the point of - he would say madness, but he doubts Sherlock possesses the necessary components of a mind capable of such a thing. He will delight, however, in deconstructing Sherlock Holmes until all that’s left is a burnt out husk.

Even genius must degrade into nothing; it is why Moriarty has never feared death; it is inevitable.

But when the time comes, he will be his own master.

**Author's Note:**

> tourdefierce asked for five times moriarty forgot he was only pretending to be gay. i kind of took the prompt and ran with it in about seven different directions; i hope this is something that works and doesn't fail!


End file.
